November 9, 2025
“Sometimes it is the quiet observer who sees the most.“ ~ Kathryn L. Nelson
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 The Quiet Measure of Worth

Some mornings arrive heavy — not because the light is missing, but because I forget how to see it.

Today was one of those mornings. The old whisper of doubt was louder than usual, telling me I’m not good enough, not seen, not there yet. I thought about the pictures that didn’t turn out the way I hoped, and how someone else’s work seemed to shine brighter than mine. I let that old ache creep in — the one that says maybe it’s time to give up.

But then I remembered something I already knew, deep down: art isn’t measured in sales, or likes, or compliments that come and go. It’s measured in moments — in the quiet places where connection happens. It’s in the stillness of a sunrise that makes someone pause long enough to breathe again. It’s in a picture of a cat yawning in the window light that makes someone smile without even knowing why.

I realized I’ve been given something far better than attention. I’ve been given eyes to see and a heart that feels. I’ve been given the chance to share small bits of peace with others, even on the mornings when I can’t find it for myself.

As I sat there watching the pelican, the water soft and silver in the first light, I realized that maybe I’m like him — just waiting, watching, still showing up even when the sky feels heavy. The truth is, I don’t need to outshine anyone. I just need to keep noticing, keep creating, keep being present.

Because sometimes the quiet observer really does see the most.

And today, that’s enough for me.
The Point, Pascagoula